World Tour
by lucky seventh
Summary: A short vacation turns into a bumbling odyssey as Alfred drags Arthur across the globe just in time for the holidays.


**I was so thrilled to write something, and then suddenly I had two essays due two days in a row, and thus I did not write anything for a while after. I am still not feeling up to snuff or what have you, so this is just a prologue (?) I guess. I promise it will be better. Tomorrow. Or the next day.**

**And this isn't even what I intended to write BUT this one has an ending in mind, so I just have to fill in the blanks in-between I guess, yeah.**

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**Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine so go away.**

**Warnings: If you're reading this then I should not have to warn you about anything, so this is your warning that I'm not giving you any warnings.**

**Prologue Summary: Arthur receives a rude awakening and a rude surprise all in the same morning.**

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A ringing phone is not a pleasant way to wake up on your day off. Arthur Kirkland knew and acknowledged this, and yet, for some unknown reason, an annoying ringing was filling his room. Shoving his pillow over his head, Arthur tried to block out the noise; maybe if he ignored it, it would just go away. He'd been in the middle of a blissful, long-deserved sleep, and he wasn't about to let it be ruined so easily by something as cold and unfeeling as whoever was on the other end of that line, ringing away. Thank god for answering machines; he would just allow technology to work its magic and go back to sleep...as soon as that blasted ringing stopped.

After a moment (or a few moments too long), the ringing stopped. It seemed the caller had been too impatient to wait for the answering machine, or simply didn't want to leave a message. Either way was fine with Arthur, as long as he could go back to sleep. Rolling over, he muttered a curse to himself and pulled the blankets up over his head; it was too early for this. He'd earned himself some time off, and he felt he deserved it after all the work he had been doing lately. Besides, the blanket was fluffy and warm, and he hadn't yet reached the point where he would be unable to get back to sleep. Already he could feel himself drifting off again...

And then the phone, once again, began ringing.

Snapping his eyes open, Arthur ripped the blanket away from his head and grabbed the phone from the nightstand. He almost flung it at the wall, but remembered the last time he had done so; he didn't particularly want to be repairing chipped paint on his day off. He chose instead to glare venomously at the offending object, recalling a time when people communicated with _letters_ and not these horrible bits of plastic and wires. Back then, there was no way he would have been waken up by such an awful noise. Shortly after it had started, thankfully, the phone stopped ringing again.

Staring at it warily, almost certain it would start up as soon as he put it down, Arthur cautiously placed the phone back on the receiver. So far, so good. Now, he just had to get comfortable again, inching back under the covers, not taking his eyes off the phone. A delicate process, to be sure; one wrong move and—

Again, the phone began to ring.

Arthur's hand shot out and snatched up the phone, vaguely attempting to crush the smooth plastic, finger irritably pressing the button to take the call. There was no way he would be able to get back to sleep now that he was in a bad mood, so he might as well give the caller a piece of his mind while he was at it.

"The fuck do you want?" Arthur snapped into the receiver, ignoring the fact that it could actually be someone of importance who could revoke his day-off privileges for an undetermined amount of time.

Luckily, the cheerful voice that answered back wasn't one of his boss' people. No, that accent...it could only be one person. He should have known.

"G'morning, Arthur!" came a voice that was distinctly American and distinctly overjoyed that someone had finally, finally answered the phone. "I thought you'd still be sleeping!"

Oh, how Arthur wanted to strangle the person on the other end of the phone, preferably with his phone's own cord. (With a pang of disappointment, he briefly recalled that phones had somehow lost their wires somewhere along the way; he never could quite remember, things changed so quickly.)

"I _was_ sleeping, you inconsiderate fool," growled Arthur, gritting his teeth and doing his best to ignore the splitting headache that was looming on the horizon. "Until you kept bloody calling me! Don't you know what a goddamn answering machine is?"

Even all this berating would not deter the cheerful voice on the other end. "Of course I know what an answering machine is! Anyway, it's really important, so I wanted to talk to you in person."

Sighing, Arthur wondered just what was so important that Alfred couldn't simply leave a message like everyone else with common decency. Oh, right, Alfred didn't _have_ common decency. Arthur once again attempted to crush the phone, but it didn't even crack. Of course, that stupid, newfangled plastic...

"So, get your stuff and meet me outside!"

It took Arthur's sleep-deprived brain a few seconds to process that sentence; when he finally, had, he found that it _still_ didn't make any sense to him.

"...what?"

"Aw, come on, don't tell me you forgot to put in your hearing aid!" Alfred's too-loud voice chirped from the other end. Arthur growled at this, but Alfred just continued speaking. He probably couldn't hear anything over his own stupidity, thought Arthur bitterly. "I said to get your stuff and meet me outside, it's really cold out here!"

Suddenly, Arthur froze, and it was not because he was cold. "What 'stuff' are you talking about, Alfred?"

"Well, I think a few pairs of clothes and probably your toothbrush, but you can use mine if you can't find it, I guess..."

Arthur scrambled out of bed, tripping on the sheets that were still partially twisted around him. He stumbled over to the large window that overlooked his front walk, not even caring about the impossibly-cold floorboards because something horrible, truly _horrible_ was possibly happening at that moment, and he needed to be sure if the situation was as dire as he thought.

Throwing open the freshly-cleaned drapes, Arthur blinked away momentary blindness brought about by the sudden and startling daylight that seeped its way into his room and desperately peered outside. He scanned the surrounding area, looking for anything suspicious, like that bundled-up figure waving at him from his front walk...

With a garbled shriek of profanities, Arthur dropped the phone and threw open the window—or he would have, if he hadn't had to struggle with the fickle frame that stuck whenever it got chilly outside.

"Alfred!" he cried, when he finally got the window up enough to scream his objection to the rest of the neighborhood, "I do hope for _your_ sake that I'm dreaming and you're not standing outside telling me to get my things and—"

"Nuh-uh!" Alfred's breathy non-answer puffed out into the air, at which point Arthur recalled it was freezing and slammed the window shut. Leaving the phone forgotten on the floor, he marched down the stairs and to the front door, heaving it open to see one of the people who could, without fail, ruin his supposed-to-be relaxing day off.

"Alfred," he hissed.

"Arthur," Alfred tried to hiss back, but all the grinning he was doing certainly hampered any efforts he was making to appear as angry as Arthur felt.

"I'm calling the police." Arthur attempted to slam the door shut, but, on cue, an impossibly strong grip stopped it in its tracks, cracking the hinges in the process. Arthur winced, glared, and stepped back from the door if only to save it from being broken to pieces (as had happened once or twice before).

Alfred shuffled inside, ignoring, or not noticing, the withering look he was receiving from a pair of bloodshot green eyes—Christmas colours! he noted cheerfully.

"_What_," Arthur started, after taking several calming breaths, "Are you doing here?"

"I thought it was pretty obvious." Alfred looked around the entryway that hadn't changed since the last hundred times he'd visited. No, wait; that picture on the wall was new, and a coat rack in the corner had changed appearance since last time he'd seen it.

"I had to get a new one since you broke it the last time you dropped in," Arthur spat out, seeing Alfred studying the new addition.

Nodding knowingly, Alfred tugged at the red scarf that was wrapped securely, if not haphazardly, around his neck. "Anyway, get your things, or we'll miss the flight."

"What flight?"

"The one I booked for us, duh!" Alfred slapped Arthur on the back, grinning away like some demented being. Arthur, meanwhile, was doing his best impression of a fish out of water, thoroughly shocked and horrified at the news he was receiving. He was on _vacation_; he had _not_ planned a flight to _anywhere_.

"I never heard anything about a flight!" he sputtered, confusion evident on his face.

Alfred simply reached out a gloved hand that was far too big for Arthur's liking, using it to ruffle the irritable Englishman's sleep-tousled hair. "Surprise! We're going on a trip!"

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**So hungry. Prologue done. See here, the plan is that they shall be ~*travelling the world*~ and obviously I can't include too many countries, but if you have a country you'd like them to visit and/or a particular activity to go along with it, please comment and I'll be sure to include it.**


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